


Taste Your Heart and Lick Your Health

by irinokat



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: A lot of sex, Accidental Voyeurism, Consent Issues, Drift Side Effects, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Psychic Voyeurism, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irinokat/pseuds/irinokat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann was expecting the drift to have side effects. This was not what he was envisioning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have been posting this on Tumblr and finally decided people might like it here, too. Note: Will be divided up a bit differently here than on Tumblr. Also, consent issues involve one person accidentally and psychically spying on other people having sex, and later on knowingly spying on them and getting off on it, so if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this.

Hermann wakes up to the sound of someone moaning. He looks around, but there’s no one else in his room, and no one in the rooms around him has ever made such a noise. He presses his fingers to his ears as another moan comes, but it doesn’t get any quieter.

That’s when he realizes it’s coming from inside his head.

Hermann flushes; he hadn’t really meant to listen, but he can tell the voice is Newt’s. He’d gone to see Hannibal tonight, so is he in pain? Is Hannibal doing something to him –

Hermann can feel hands on his skin, stubble scraping against his back, lips pressing into his spine. Oh god. This was a side effect he’d never heard about, never anticipated.

He knew he’d occasionally felt the ooze of kaiju blue under his fingers as Newt worked, and that Newt occasionally complained about dry fingers or cold feet that actually belonged to Hermann. But why did this have to happen now?

Hermann shivers as a hand slides over his cock. Oh no, he’s getting hard – he can feel Newt getting hard too, feel the heat shooting through his body, hear the whimpers choking themselves out of Newt’s throat.

Shoving his head under his pillow, Hermann resolves to research this the next morning, trying to ignore the hands caressing him – not him, Newt. He needs to find out how to sever this, to get out of Newt’s head – damn, that feels good. Hermann bites the pillow, wondering if Newt feels anything that he’s doing. He seems too caught up in the moment to notice.

Unable to go back to sleep, Hermann turns on his desk lamp and reads, trying his best to ignore the hands trailing up his sides and running over his chest. For a while, he manages to succeed, keeping his eyes solely on the book, mind far away. Then a warm, wet tongue circles Newt’s cock. Hermann inhales sharply as his own cock is suddenly surrounded by wet heat.

All thoughts of the book go completely out the window. Hermann scrabbles at the sheets, surprised at how gentle Hannibal is, going slow and taking Newt deep. Oh god, he shouldn’t be thinking about this, shouldn’t be getting this glance into their – Hannibal’s tongue running up his shaft feels so damn good, oh, yes, right there.

Hermann should not be enjoying this. Hermann should feel violated, should feel horrified that he’s become a strange sort of sensual voyeur, but, but oh dear, Hannibal is good at this. It’s not Hermann’s fault that he’s feeling this, it’s the bloody drift and he can’t control it, and it’s been so long since he’s been with someone else –

He and Newt come at the same time, both surprised at how intense the orgasm is. Hermann can understand why, given the circumstances, but Newt seems perplexed, hasn’t caught on yet. Hermann isn’t sure he wants Newt to, and feels guilty at the thought. But he has no idea how they’re even connected this way; can he really be blamed for suffering the consequences – or enjoying them, as the case may be?

The thought sickens him. He doesn’t think about it much longer, though; the post-orgasm haze has him asleep fairly quickly.

The next morning, it takes Hermann a while to remember why his boxers are sticky. He wonders if he just had a wet dream, dismisses the feeling, and gets dressed and ready for work. He doesn’t comment on Newt’s unusually peppy attitude when the biologist shows up late to the lab. Newt obviously hasn’t realized, or he would have said something by now – he can never keep such discoveries to himself. Hermann silently hopes it’ll stay that way, if it even really happened at all. He’s disturbed at himself for dreaming about his coworker. Sure, he’s had feelings before for Newt, but nothing that strong – has he?

A few days later, Newt announces that he’s leaving early for a date. Hermann shoos him out, happy to get a few quiet hours to work on his reports, before realizing what this means. It could happen again – but surely the last time was just a fluke, a random side-effect of the drift. They’ve been feeling each other less, or at least not commenting on it as often lately.

Tonight he can’t sleep, tossing and turning, feeling awful that he’s anticipating whatever Newt and Hannibal will be up to. He forces himself to lie still, telling himself that he won’t feel it, that he shouldn’t want to feel it, that this is wrong.

It doesn’t stop him from thinking, _Finally_ , when he feels a hand run up and down his spine.

This time Hannibal’s mouth only stays on Newt’s cock for a few moments, getting him warmed up and sending tingles up Hermann’s spine. Hermann turns over, clinching the pillow beneath his head as he feels hands on his ass. Oh god – those are fingers slipping around and – Hannibal has his fingers inside Newt, working him open. Hermann bites into the pillow as he manages to fit three in. Newt is so fucking tight – or is that Hermann’s tightness, he’s never been fucked – either way, it feels wonderful. Hermann never realized someone else’s fingers against his prostate might feel so good.

Then the fingers slide out. Hermann almost whines at the emptiness, then slaps a hand over his own mouth, embarrassed that he’d beg for such a thing. He doesn’t have to wait long; he feel Hannibal’s tip circling his hole, pressing against it, and then – and then –

Hermann lets out a long sigh as Hannibal presses hard into hi – into Newt, sliding in to the base of his shaft. Newt lets out a confused, “huh?” quickly followed by shouts and groans of pleasure. Hermann can feel him writhing under Hannibal, feel every ridge being pounded by Hannibal’s massive cock, oh it feels so good, if he could just –

Hermann reaches down and begins to jerk himself off. He’s just as shocked as Newt is when he comes just a moment or two later, already done, orgasm strong enough to make him moan aloud. Hannibal slows down. He must be as confused as Newt feels at seeing Newt come without being touched. Hermann smiles as he pants, trying to get his breath back.

That’s when Newt adds two and two. “Hermann?” Hermann sits bolt upright. Fuck. He’s been caught.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, this is so uncool.”

“Newton, I was not –“

“You were fucking spying on us – fucking! God, this is messed up.” Newt begins to pace even faster around Hermann’s room. Hermann can feel his heart pounding in time with his steps.

“You know I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t – didn’t have to fucking get off to it!” Newt gives an involuntary shiver.

“Newton, I’ve already apologized. If there was something else I could do, I promise you I would do it.” Hermann tries desperately to keep his voice even. He knows Newt is perfectly within his rights to be upset about this, but he still wants to argue, wants to turn this into one of their normal fights – not feel this sense of, of betrayal that’s rolling off of Newt in tangible waves. “I can’t just turn my mind off every time you want to have sex.”

Newt sighs and stops, letting out a deep breath. “It’s still creepy as fuck.” His face goes red. “Even if it feels really good.”

Hermann rubs his face. “Must you let every thought that flies through your head out of your mouth?”

“Do you have to keep all of yours bottled up all the time and pretend you’re some kind of math genius robot?” Newt asks.

“Just because I prefer not to talk about them all the time –“

“You don’t talk about them ever!” Newt shouts, flinging his arms out. “Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if you freaking would!”

Hermann glares up at him from his seat on the bed. “What do you mean by that?”

Newt leans in close. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Hermann can feel his own face flushing, wonders if it’s the same color as Newt’s. “There is nothing I currently wish to discuss –“

Newt’s forehead is nearly touching Hermann’s. “Look, dude, I already know. The drift made it kind of obvious. So if you’re not going to say it, then I’ll –“

“Enough!” Hermann snaps, feeling his lips brush Newt’s, face growing hot just at that quick touch. “Yes, I – I’ve had feelings for you.” When he sees Newt glare, he corrects himself. “I _have_ feelings for you. But it’s not as if that matters now, considering your relationship with –“

“That’s not a thing!” Newt snaps. His eyes screw shut in frustration. “God, Hermann, you can be so stupid sometimes. We’re just – we’re just fuckbuddies, it’s not like I got down on one knee and we’re all exclusive, okay?”

“You got down on both knees,” Hermann says, unable to stop himself. He’s had a taste for… uncouth humor since the drift, and he entirely blames Newt for that.

“I’m not sure if I should be offended or glad that you’ve learned to make jokes,” Newt says. “But yeah, you have feelings for me.” he leans in even closer, speaking into Hermann’s mouth. “I have feelings for you, too. And I think maybe we should see where they go.”

Hermann can take hints as obvious as this one. He barely has to move forward before his lips are pressed tight against Newt’s. Newt’s hand finds the back of his neck. He lays his own on Newt’s shoulders, awkward, not totally sure what to do, but something about this feels right. He’s not used to listening to his feelings the way Newt is. Maybe this might help him in that regard.

Newt slides his hand down Hermann’s back, resting it just above Hermann’s ass. He starts tugging at Hermann’s buttons with his other hand. After a few moments of struggling, Hermann reaches down to undo his buttons, brushing Newt’s hand out of the way; Newt takes that as an excuse to untuck and unbutton his own. Newt tackles Hermann as he tries to pull his shirt off; they end up a laughing, tangled mess on the bed, struggling to strip down and not fall off the bed in the process, mouths catching each other and whatever skin they can reach.

Hermann realizes as he presses his lips to Newt’s inked stomach that he can feel an echo of the sensation. Curious, he rises and slides two fingers over Newt’s nipple, feeling a tingle in his own chest as Newt squirms beneath him. His own breath catches as he licks and sucks at the nub.

Newt must realize what’s going on. A moment later, he’s running his hands all over Hermann’s shoulders and chest, moaning as if it’s Hermann touching him. It’s hard to think and communicate through the sensory overload, but Hermann manages to get Newt to sit up against the wall while he lays down on the bed, his head level with Newt’s thighs.

It’s strange to feel his own lips around his cock, making him gasp and splutter as he tries to swallow Newt – and not think about who was doing the same thing to Newt a few nights ago. It’s quick and sloppy, not at all what Hermann’s managed in the past on the few occasions he’s had a lover – he likes to take things slow, to work his way down, but something about this going fast seems right. Especially since he feels his own hips jerk down into the bed at the same time that Newt’s buck forward, accidentally slamming the back of his throat as they both cum. Neither of them can move much afterward, Hermann only enough to get Newt’s limp cock out of his mouth, Newt to reach down and run his fingers through Hermann’s hair.

After a while, in which one or both of them may or may not have dosed off, Newt says, “We should probably go to the lab sometime today.”

“I suppose.” Neither one gets up, though Hermann does scoot forward a bit, resting his head on Newt’s soft stomach.

“Man,” Newt finally says. “Simultaneous orgasms.”

“Mhm.” Hermann doesn’t feel much like talking. Or like going to the lab. He crawls forward again and gently kisses Newt. “Would you like to experiment with this again?”

“Yeah, at some point.” When Hermann reaches down, he squeaks. That’s the only thing the sound can be described as. “Or now. Now’s good too.”


	3. Chapter 3

 “So, uh,” Newt starts. He already wants to smack himself. Why can he not just do things?

“Yeah?” Hannibal looks a little impatient; his mouth is already at Newt’s neck. His hands snake up Newt’s chest, heading for his buttons.

“Would you want to, uh, have a, um, threesome some time?” Newt asks. _One you know you’re participating in, anyways,_ he thinks.

Hannibal’s hands stop. For a moment, Newt thinks he’s ruined everything, until he looks up into Hannibal’s face. The man looks intrigued, not angry. “You got someone in mind?”

“Well, uh, yeah.” Newt slides his own hands down to Hannibal’s hips, wanting to keep going. “You know that guy I’ve been telling you about, Hermann?”

“You want your crush to come along with us?” Hannibal looks skeptical now. “You sure that’s a good idea, kid?”

“I think it’d be fun!” Newt says, squeezing Hannibal’s ass, pressing up tight against him, hoping it’ll be encouraging.

“The more the merrier, as far as I’m concerned, but you really sure you wanna get your feelings all tangled up in this?”

Since when is Hannibal Chau someone who knows how to handle romantic relationships? Then again, Newt’s never exactly been an expert with them. Maybe he should listen. “I mean, we’ve talked about it, and he knows about us and he’s okay with it, and I think he’d be fine with it.”

Hannibal still looks unsure, but he says, “Well, talk to your little boytoy about it and we’ll see. Don’t expect me to stick around if you two get into it without me, though. I gotta be havin’ my fun here too.”

“Yeah! No problem!” Newt says. He gets up on his toes and kisses Hannibal. “Sweet. Awesome. Thanks.”

Hannibal chuckles. “Man, you’re really eager for this.”

“You have no idea.” Newt smiles as he feels Hermann lazily stroking his cock back in his room at the Shatterdome. It’s understandable. Newt doesn’t mind Hermann secretly joining in now that he knows what’s up. It’s not exactly fair to tell Hermann that he has to feel everything that Newt and Hannibal are doing but not enjoy it.

Before his brain can get caught up in the ethics of this and ruin the fun of it, Newt starts pulling Hannibal’s suit jacket off. Getting fucked sounds really good right now.


	4. Chapter 4

“No.”

“C’mon, Hermann, please just –“

“What makes you think I would enjoy such a thing?” Hermann asks, barely even bothering to look up from his computer. Newt watches him glare at his calculations.

“Because it’d be fun!”

“Yes, I’m sure watching you and your boyfriend would be such a joy.”

“You’d be there too! We wouldn’t ignore you, I promise!”

Hermann finally looks up, mouth turned down in a sour frown. “You do realize that I am not capable of the same acts that you two are?” Newt feels him rub his leg under the desk. “My constantly having to tell you that I can’t do this or that is not exactly a wonderful way to spend an evening.”

“Herms, there’s nothing wrong with not being able to do stuff. There’s still fun things we can do. I promise.”

Hermann sighs. “And what if you find that you prefer to be able to do more things with him instead of being stuck with me?”

“Are you – you’re seriously worried I’d pick him over you?” Newt leans over the desk, getting into Hermann’s face. “Look, I haven’t been in love with him for the last ten goddamn years of my life. I don’t care if you can’t fuck me or if we can’t have sex ever again. It’d suck, yeah, but that’s not important.”

“You know I’m alright with your… arrangement because I know that I can’t give you what you need sexually,” Hermann says after a long pause for thought. “I don’t think dragging me into this is a good idea.”

“Well, I’ve kind of already dragged you in anyways.”

“That is a circumstance we have no control over.”

“But – but it’s still kind of awkward! You know? Wouldn’t it be more fun if you were more actively involved?”

“Perhaps.”

“Seriously, Herms. For science.”

Hermann turns back to his computer. “I will give it some thought, at least. And please stop calling me that.”

“But it’s so cute!”

“I don’t like it. I am not cute.”

“Says you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame this part (well, most of this fic) on otachistongue. :P

Hermann stays late in the lab that night to finish some reports he doesn’t want to leave sitting. Newt left a while ago, on another date with Hannibal. Hermann will never understand his attraction to the man. Well, after he thinks about it, he realizes that isn’t true – well, it’s true to an extent, it’s hard to explain how or why attraction works or who you’re attracted to, but he can at least feel the affection Newt has for the man if he digs around in both their heads long enough. It’s not nearly the same as his love for Hermann, which Hermann is embarrassed by every time he sees it, but it’s still there.

Could Hermann like him? Or at least learn to for a night? It’s an interesting proposition, at least.

Hermann blinks as someone knocks on the lab’s doorframe, jarred from his thoughts. “Yes?” he asks, wondering who could be here this late.

He’s not terribly surprised when Marshall Hansen walks in. Ever since the Breach closed, he’s kept odd hours, occasionally stumbling in and sitting down without a word when he needs company. He doesn’t like it when Newt is around – the man is a little too mouthy and apt to say the wrong thing. But when it’s just Hermann, they both sit quietly, rarely speaking, simply being together. Hermann’s never known how to deal with people who are upset, so he hopes that just being near the Marshall helps somehow with his grieving.

He taps away at his reports for a while, forgetting that Hansen is even there for several minutes. Until he feels the invisible hands on his skin. Oh no. He gets to his feet and salutes. “Please excuse me, Marshall,” Hermann says, hoping his face isn’t turning red, “but I must lock up for the night.”

“Would you mind showing me what you have of your reports for now?” Hansen asks. “That way I wouldn’t have to come around tomorrow.”

Hermann knows that Marshall Hansen is incredibly busy right now, and inconveniencing him just seems rude, but at the same time, he can feel himself starting to stiffen. What to do? Hermann sits back down and pulls his reports up. Hopefully this won’t take long. He turns the monitor towards the Marshall. Hopefully he’ll have as few questions as he normally does.

Hermann sits nervously, feeling a hand sliding up and down his cock and doing his best not to moan or let his breathing get heavier as the Marshall leans over the desk, reading the files. When he does ask questions, Hermann nearly stammers, finding it hard to concentrate as he feels a wet, warm tongue on his ass. Finally, after minutes of Hermann grabbing his chair so hard that his knuckles are white, Hansen nods. “Good work. Keep it up. Thanks for your time.”

“You’re – you’re welcome, sir.”

“Are you alright?” Hansen asks, looking genuinely concerned. Oh dear, he’s shaking – it must be because of the fingers currently probing his prostate. Hermann would like to kill Newt at the moment.

“Fine, sir, just tired. I think it would benefit us both to get some rest.” Hermann tries his best to smile, sure that it looks more like a grimace from the way his muscles are pulling at his mouth.

“Right. I’ll come for Geiszler’s reports later in the week.” Hansen leaves before Hermann can say anything else.

Thank god. Hermann collapses onto the desk, letting himself give one desperate moan after he hears the elevator rumbling upwards in the distance. Hannibal is fucking them good and deep tonight. At the moment, the feeling is so intense that he can barely move. He rides it out, shuddering, shaking in his seat. When he can’t bear it anymore, he rubs himself through his pants. He would feel apologetic, but being forced to sit through this with the Marshall so near has dulled his ability to pity Newt with anger.

It’s not long before both he and Newt are coming. Hermann can feel his own ass tightening around Hannibal’s cock as Newt shouts. Oh, thank God, it’s done for now. Hermann shuts down his computer and gets up… then clenches his legs together as he realizes that Hannibal is still fucking Newt. Shit. It’s hard to walk already, this just makes it harder.

By the time Hermann makes it to the elevator, he’s ready to kill Newt. This can’t happen again. It’s too, too humiliating.


	6. Chapter 6

“You know I wouldn’t have done that on purpose!” Newt protests.

“Do I?” Hermann asks, annoyed. Perhaps it’s a bit unfair to be angry at Newt over this, he really had no idea what was going on, but Hermann still feels pissed and it just feels right to let some of the anger over last night out. “You’ve done some pretty terrible things on purpose before.”

“Getting kaiju entrails on your blackboards was a one time thing, okay? Could you freaking drop that?”

“What about the time I found a dead louse in my desk?”

“Okay, that was shitty, I get it. But that’s, like, middle school pranks between us, not me trying to get you in trouble in front of the marshall.” Newt sighs. “Not on purpose, anyways.”

Hermann goes back to the chalkboard with a new, unbroken piece, wondering what he’s going to do with Newt. “I suppose I can’t work late anymore when you’re going to go on your dates.”

“I mean, unless you want to try to work while your mind is on other things.” Newt has his eyebrows raised in a way that Hermann supposes is suggestive. “Which usually does not work out well. Not that I’ve tried or anything!”

“I’m sure you haven’t,” Hermann says, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes.

“I caught that!” Newt calls over his microscope.

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to hide my annoyance, then.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey, Hermann?” Newt has started to hang around Hermann’s room lately, no matter what Hermann happens to be doing. Normally, Hermann would mind this; he’s an introvert, he needs time to himself, especially away from someone as loud and talkative as Newt. But it turns out that Newt can have his quiet moments, too, whether that’s a carryover from the drift or just part of his own introversion.

And something about his company doesn’t disturb Hermann anymore, the way it used to; something about their newfound connection must be the cause of that. And, well, the feelings. Hermann hasn’t found a good name for them yet. It’s not exactly love, he’s not sure of it the way that Newt is, especially since they spent so long not even noticing it in each other, much less talking about it or cultivating it; but it is there, and he knows he feels it, and now that Newt knows he’s never going to be able to forget it or bury it again.

He finally remembers that Newt had a question in the middle of his thoughts. He seems to be going off on tangents more lately and losing focus; odd. Anyways. “Yes?”

“Can I give you a blowjob?”

“What?”

“I wanna blow you.” Newt is leaning over him, hands on the arms of his desk chair. His eyes are wide, eyebrows together, trying to look as much like a puppy as he can. “Can I do that? Can you do that? Is it okay if we –“

“Where did this come from?” Hermann asks, suspicious. There was no lead-up to this. Not that Newt usually beats around the bush, but being this direct is not his forte.

Newt leans in closer. “Dude, you get to feel what me and Hannibal are doing all the time. I just occasionally get a hand on my cock. I wanna know what it feels like.”

“Of course that’s why,” Hermann says. Perhaps he’s being unkind, but he’s not in a mood to put up with Newt yet.

Newt glares down at him. “Dude, do you really think I’d be offering to blow you if I didn’t really want to? Besides, you were fucking incredible the other day. I want to return the favor.”

Hermann puts his tablet away, sighing. “Fine.”

“You don’t have to act like all I do is annoy you, you know,” Newt says as he gets down on his knees. “If this is really bothering you, I can wait.”

“No, now is as good a time as any. Though do we have to do it right here?” The desk is a rather awkward spot for such… things, at least in Hermann’s mind.

“Fine.” Newt gets up and holds out his hand for Hermann. Then he thinks better of it and just walks over to the bed while Hermann gets up out of the chair. He’s back on the floor by the time Hermann sits down again, and his fingers attack Hermann’s pants like he’s uncovering buried treasure.

Newt runs his hand up and down Hermann’s cock a few times before he pulls it out of Hermann’s boxers, moaning as he feels the touches through the drift. “God, this is fucking – shit,” he says as he runs his hand up Hermann’s shaft, then back down and fondles his balls. “How can you – oh, fuck – can you just take this?” He glances around and sees Hermann’s hands clinching the sheets as tightly as they can. “Ah.”

Before Hermann can reply, Newt’s head is in his lap, his tongue swirling around Hermann’s head. Hermann lets out a grunt as Newt gives him a gentle suck, then pushes down on him, his mouth perfectly expanding to fit around Hermann. Newt gives a groan at the feeling; Hermann shivers at the vibrations of it on his cock.

The blow job is just as quick as the one Hermann gave Newt; the combined sensations are just too much for both of them. At some point, Newt starts palming himself through his jeans, the added pressure making Hermann shout as Newt goes down deep. God, it feels so good. So strange, yet so good. Soon enough, they’re both coming, Newt trying to swallow Hermann’s cum at the same time that he gives an orgasmic moan and the front of his pants dampen. After a moment to rest, he laps the rest of the cum off of Hermann’s dick, sure to leave him clean before pulling completely off. “Holy shit,” he says, licking his lips.

“Is your curiosity sated?” Hermann asks, smirking, as Newt tries to get to his feet and nearly falls over.

“For now, yeah, I’m good.” Newt leans up against the bed for a moment, brushing his shoulder against Hermann’s. “I – I’m gonna go – go change. That was – shit, that was good.” He bends down and kisses Hermann before he goes, legs still unsteady and wobbling. Hermann can’t help but smile as he watches Newt leave.


	8. Chapter 8

This is the third night in a row that Newt’s gone to visit Hannibal, and it’s beginning to drive Hermann crazy. He never considered himself to have much of a sexual appetite, but something about this whole situation is slowly turning his conceptions of himself as a sexual being inside out. Perhaps actually having sex – and feeling other people having it – is awakening this side of him, perhaps it’s Newt’s own drive bleeding over from the drift, but whatever it is, being alone at night is starting to make him antsy, almost like he’s going to crawl out of his own skin.

When Newt enters the lab the next day, Hermann doesn’t know exactly how to say what’s on his mind. He thinks about it entirely too much, distracting himself from his equations as he tries to think of the proper wording. Finally, he has to stop when Newt says, “Okay, out with it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been anxious about something all damn morning. It’s making me itch.” Newt tosses his latex gloves into the garbage. “What’s up?”

Hermann sighs, leaning against the blackboard for strength. “I think,” he says after some hesitation, “that I would like to – like to… join you, the next time you see… Hannibal.”

Newt’s face brightens immediately. “Dude, seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You’re really sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.” Hermann is settled on this. He’ll do it. As long as he’s not questioned about it too much. Or really just forced to think it through at all. He needs some of Newt’s impulsiveness right now, not his own methodical thought processes. Why does the drift never actually help when he needs something like that?

“Cool, cool. Awesome. Alright.” Newt walks towards the door, reaching into his pocket.

“You’re not calling him right now, are you?” Hermann asks, slightly appalled.

“Why not? Gotta make plans.” Newt stops for just a moment. “When’re you free?”

“My plate is not exactly full at the moment.” Hermann stares at the imprint of his jacket on the chalkboard. Nothing important got erased, thankfully, but he can still see where he leaned against it. His jacket must be filthy now. Ugh.

Newt heads toward the door again. “Great, so, I will make plans for whenever, and I will let you know when, and hopefully you won’t back out but if you do, just uh, just let me know.”

“Don’t make me consider it more than I already am,” Hermann says, voice dripping with sarcasm, though he really wonders if this is a good idea at all. It doesn’t matter much, anyways; Newt is already out the door. Hermann returns to the chalkboard with a heavy sigh.


	9. Chapter 9

Hannibal Chau is nothing if not imposing. Hermann had thought Newt was exaggerating his size when recounting the story of his night in Hong Kong, but Hannibal truly is a massive man, towering over him, smirking in a way that suggests he expects Hermann to be intimidated.

Hermann refuses to acquiesce. Ever since he and his father fell out, he’s been determined not to be bowled over by anyone, man or beast. Otachi, Leatherback, and Slattern came close, but if he refuses to cower for them, he won’t do so for a mere human being.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, finally,” Hermann says, holding out his hand, doing his best to keep his face stony. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Hannibal laughs. Hermann isn’t sure whether he should read it as good-natured or sinister. “Could say the same about you, fella,” he replies, taking Hermann’s hand in a strong, but not crushing grip. His hands are large, but nice, calluses fading, fingers well-shaped. So Hannibal doesn’t leave all of his work to his underlings. Hermann wonders what business would keep his hands rough, then decides he doesn’t want to know.

Newt is far more nervous than either of them combined, clearly trying his best to stand still. “Yeah, yeah, I talk a lot, I know.”

Hannibal gives another lopsided smile. “Hopefully nothing too bad, doc, I know I’ve only heard plenty of good about you.”

The only thought running through Hermann’s mind are some of the Marshall’s last words: _don_ _’t trust him._ Newt is certainly foolhardy enough to believe a gangster at his word, to think that this relationship is simply one of fun and convenience. Hermann wishes to believe that as well, but he knows better than to go with his instincts in a case like this. “I can say the same, thankfully.”

“Want a tour of the facilities?” Hannibal looks around the room, a massive circular affair of people prepping and preserving various specimens. Even weeks after the last kaiju deaths, there’s plenty of work to be done.

Hermann glances over at Newt. He’s still shaky, but not in a way that shows he’s overeager. He’s probably already seen all of Hannibal’s lair – at least, what Hannibal will show him. Hermann has no desire to be around more kaiju parts than he already sees in a day spent in the lab. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather get to whatever you have planned.”

“Get too much of the kaiju talk every day, eh?” Hannibal asks.

“I must admit, it’d be nice not to think about specimens for a while.”

“Oh, come on, Hermann, I don’t go on about them _that_ much.” Hannibal and Hermann both give Newt a look at the same time, eyebrows quirked, Hermann frowning, Hannibal shaking his head. “Dude, that’s freaky,” Newt says after a minute of staring at them. Hermann looks up, realizing just how his expression mirrors Hannibal’s, and quickly looks away. He might be starting to see what Newt finds attractive in Hannibal, if it’s the same kind of thing he finds attractive in Hermann.

Dinner is surprisingly simple – appetizer, main course, dessert, all prepared by Hannibal’s chef. Hermann can’t help but be impressed by the delicate, balanced flavors of the dishes presented – clearly the cook is an expert, and he’s surprised that Hannibal is such a fine diner. Something about his persona seems… unsuited to that. It’s hard to tell if Hannibal is going for some amount of dissonance between his appearance and his character.

Hermann is also surprised that Newt doesn’t just scarf down all of his food, the way he does in the mess. He wonders if Newt learned to be respectful during such a meal before this, or if Hannibal had to teach him to appreciate the food. He gives a small, unconscious smile as he pictures the larger man trying to teach Newt to slow down.

Newt gives him an annoyed look. Memories flash through his and Hermann’s mind of fancy dinners for fundraisers and such at MIT. _I may not choose to be stuck up all the time, but I_ _’m not a complete heathen._ Hermann sighs and nods. It’s hard to remember sometimes, after being around Newt for years, that he had to survive grad school as both a student and a professor for several years to get his degrees.

“Something goin’ on with you two?” Hannibal asks. Hermann flushes, wondering how he caught it. Does he have an embarrassing look on his face?

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Newt says.

“Still experiencing drift side-effects?” Hannibal asks, sounding genuinely curious.

Hermann gives him a suspicious look. “How much do you know about drifting? I thought the PPDC kept a tight hold on the information.”

“You’re forgetting that I funded a good bit of the PPDC goings-on for the last several months.” Hannibal leans back, putting his hands behind his head. “And I have other methods, too, but it’s occasionally easier to go above-board.”

“So how much do you know?” Dessert comes and goes through the discussion of the finer aspects of the drift and its consequences. It’s surprising just how smart Hannibal is – he manages to keep up with Newt and Hermann’s bickering in a way the Marshall never even tried. Not that the Marshall was stupid, not by any means; he just simply didn’t have the time to make such an effort. Most people couldn’t keep up with Newt and Hermann. They might argue all the time, but it’s because they’re a good mental match, not because one is better or smarter than the other. To find a third person able to stay on point with them is strange, especially in such a place as this. Then again, Hermann supposes one has to be quite intelligent to keep up a racket on the scale of Hannibal’s marketing without everything breaking apart.

“So, we can discuss the known side-effects ‘til the cows come home, but I want to know, what do you guys get?” Hannibal finally asks, leaning forward, and for the first time, Hermann feels like the man is crowding in on his personal space. “Anything different happen because of the kaiju involved?”

“I’m surprised Newton hasn’t discussed this with you.” Newt shrugs. Hermann begins to wonder why Hannibal is so interested, all of a sudden; certainly Newt would have easily volunteered the information if asked. Is there an ulterior motive here?

“There’s not really enough evidence or any tests to prove that our side effects are different,” Hermann says, trying to be careful.

Newt just shrugs. “We occasionally feel the same thing, think each other’s thoughts, but there’s not enough to suggest it’s significantly different from the reported effects.”

Hermann takes a sip of water to clear his mouth as Hannibal speaks up again. “So this wouldn’t have anything to do with why you want to have sex with me?” Hermann nearly chokes on his water, his coughs echoing throughout the now quiet dining room.

“Well, that and it’d be fun,” Newt says.

“Why would you think such a thing?” Hermann asks when he gets his breath back under control.

“Just a little bit odd when your boyfriend here shouts out your name during sex and finishes way sooner than I meant him to,” Hannibal says. Hermann can feel his face heating up. “This one of your side effects?”

Newt nods. “We figured it’d be fun to experiment with it a little more.”

“That’s fine and dandy, boys,” Hannibal says, “but would you think about telling me beforehand next time? I’m not a moron.”

“We didn’t think you were,” Hermann replies, trying to keep his cool. “We just thought… it’d be a bit odd to explain to you.”

“Yeah, didn’t really wanna walk in and say, ‘hey, you’re basically fucking my buddy every time you fuck me, might as well actually do both of us.’ That’d be silly.”

Hermann glares at Newt. “You could state that in a slightly less crude fashion.”

“Crude, whatever, it’s sex, dude.” Newt leans back in his chair. “Speaking of which…”

Hannibal practically hoists him out of the chair. Hermann wonders if it’s as easy as he makes it look, considering how small Newt is. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Impatient, c’mon.” Hermann follows behind them, trying not to smile at the way Hannibal keeps his hand on Newt’s shoulder, as if he’s afraid that Newt will run off and go raid his labs or something.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter (for now at least), aka "THEY FINALLY HAVE SEX THANK GOD"  
> i might continue this in the future if i get any more ideas. i apologize for leaving it on an odd/awkward note. this whole thing was basically an unplanned thing to get myself to write every day so it is kind of a mess. i hope y'all have enjoyed it, at least.

“Well, how do you want to start this thing?” Hannibal asks as they step into a large bedroom. Hermann can’t help but gape. The walls are a deep red, the bed a massive affair done up in red and gold sheets. Bookshelves line the walls, full of broken-in paperbacks and DVD cases. Hermann is mostly impressed that none of it as… gaudy as Hannibal’s dress suggested it might be. He was expecting (well, dreading) something a bit more… rococo, to put it politely. He hears Newt snicker in front of him, obviously having caught the thought. “What’s so funny, kid?”

Newt shakes his head. “Nothing.” He looks back at Hermann. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Hermann says quietly.

Newt steps up to him and smiles. “It’ll be fun, and if it’s not, you can tap out.” He leans in. Hermann leans down and kisses him, a modest peck with lips closed and eyes open, a little too aware of Hannibal crossing the room and sitting on the bed. “You still wanna – want to do this?”

Hermann looks over at Hannibal. With his strange glasses off, the man is actually somewhat attractive, and he doesn’t look as threatening just leaning casually on the bed. Hermann begins to see what Newt saw in him, maybe. “Yes.”

“I get to join this rodeo at some point, right?” Hannibal calls. Newt suddenly laughs, high pitched and jarring, showing just how nervous he is about this too. Hermann grabs him and drags him over to the bed.

He manages to stutter out a “What?” in surprise when Hannibal tugs him down into his lap.

“Mind if I try you out?” Hannibal asks with a smirk.

“I don’t appreciate being talked to as if I’m a toy.” Hermann hopes he’s not pushing anything by saying that.

“Noted.” Hannibal tilts his head, really studying Hermann with his good eye. “I like a guy who knows what he wants. So how do you want me to address you?”

“As Hermann. Or sir.” Hermann leans in and kisses him, steadying himself by gripping Hannibal’s lapel with one hand as Newt squeaks, then moans.

Hannibal pulls away just enough to turn his head and ask, “You okay, kid?”

“He’s fine,” Hermann says, running a finger down Hannibal’s jaw. “He’s just feeling this.”

“Huh.” Hannibal studies Newt for a moment before turning back to Hermann. “So can he feel this?”

Hermann and Newt groan at the same time as Hannibal dips down and kisses Hermann’s neck, just under his jaw. He kisses down until he reaches Hermann’s collar, unbuttons just the first button, and gently bites the skin he finds underneath the shirt. Hermann’s gone nearly silent, just little whimpers in Hannibal’s ear to indicate his pleasure, but Newt makes enough noise for the both of them. Hermann can barely hear the sound of Newt taking his shirt off over the moans coming out of his mouth. He gets a grip on Hannibal’s hair, tugging him closer, willing him to keep going.

Newt has been reduced to whimpering, lying on the bed as Hannibal continues his slow descent down Hermann’s chest. Hermann holds himself tighter against Hannibal as Newt slides his hands down his own chest, feeling it just as strongly as if someone else were doing it. Hannibal just smiles against Hermann’s skin and sucks harder. When he reaches Hermann’s sweater, he finally stops. Hermann feels like he can finally breathe again, finally managing more than short, sharp gasps. “You take care of this,” Hannibal says into his ear as he tugs at his sweater, “And I’ll take care of the kid.”

“Don’t rough him up too much,” Hermann says as he slides onto the bed, pulling up his sweater as he goes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know how to treat him right.” Hermann isn’t entirely sure how to take that, but the feeling of hands running up and down his sides quickly dispels any untoward thoughts he may have had.

As Hermann pulls off his sweater, he hears Hannibal ask, “So as long as we’re experimenting here, you mind if I try something else?” Hermann can feel him stroking Newt’s sternum and god, it feels good. He didn’t realize just how much he missed this – not even sex, simply the closeness of someone else touching him.

“Sure,” Newt says. He lets out a little whine as Hannibal gets off the bed and heads toward one of the bookcases. Hermann starts to unbutton his shirt as Hannibal reaches into a box and pulls out… rope. A large bundle of rope. Hermann freezes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Hannibal asks as he crosses the room again.

“Fuck yes,” Newt says quietly, voice breathy. Hermann turns to stare at him. He looks like he’s just won the lottery. “Oh, don’t even start,” he says when he realizes that Hermann’s looking at him. “If you think being into BDSM is weird, then –“

“I’m just surprised,” Hermann says. “And… I don’t believe I’m the sort for being tied up, I suppose.”

Hannibal pulls Newt’s wrists behind him and begins to tie them together. “You’re the sort to do the tying,” he says, grinning, gold teeth flashing. Hermann flushes.

“I’ve never tried it either way, if you must know,” he says, pulling his shirt off.

“Should sometime. I bet whipping the kid into submission would help you relax a bit.” Finished with Newt’s wrists, Hannibal goes for his ankles.

“You aren’t even gonna let me take my pants off?” Newt asks, a bit huffy.

“You’ll get over it,” Hannibal says as he knots the rope. He pats Newt on the shoulder, then pushes him onto his back and to the side of the bed. He straddles Newt, kisses him once on his collarbone, rubs him through his pants to make sure he’s hard – Hermann can’t help but moan as he feels the hand palming him – and then gets up, making his way across the bed to Hermann.

When Newt realizes that he’s not coming back, he asks, “So you’re just gonna let me lie here?!”

“You’ve been a little brat lately,” Hannibal says, “and this whole thing? Icing on the cake. So I think I’m gonna have some fun with your boyfriend and let you feel the results, if this experiment thing really does work out.”

Before either Newt or Hermann can say anything else, Hannibal pushes Hermann down onto the bed and kisses him hard. Hermann grips his hair again and pulls him down against his own body, enjoying the feel of Hannibal’s hairy chest rubbing against his own fairly smooth skin. Hannibal grinds his hips down, making Hermann cry out against his mouth. He hears Newt shout as well, but ignores it. Newt can deal with this, the way he’s made Hermann deal with it for the past few weeks. Well, except he can’t get himself off with the position he’s gotten himself into. He smiles at the thought. Hannibal takes the opportunity to slip his tongue deep into Hermann’s mouth.

Hermann runs his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair, groaning into Hannibal’s mouth as his hands find their way to the sensitive spots on Hermann’s back. Truth be told, nearly every spot on Hermann’s body is a sensitive spot; he’s forgotten how long it’s been since the last time he’s done anything like this.

“Man, you’re a responsive little thing, aren’t you?” Hannibal asks, pressing his hand to Hermann’s side. Newt moans and whimpers next to them.

Hannibal slowly slides down Hermann’s body, his hands and mouth exploring everywhere. Hermann wonders if he’s trying to reach every inch of skin Hermann has. He doesn’t stop at Hermann’s pants, just lowers his head and licks Hermann through his pants. Newt’s moaning gets louder as he rubs his cheek over Hermann’s cock before licking it again. It takes quite a bit of self-control for Hermann not to buck his hips into Hannibal’s face.

It’s a relief when Hannibal finally pulls Hermann’s pants down, mouthing at Hermann’s cock through his boxers. It feels even better when he takes the boxers completely off, leaving Hermann naked. Hermann can feel his face and shoulders heat up, blood pounding in his ears, as Hannibal sits back and looks him over, hoping he won’t be disgusted by Hermann’s frail, thin body. For some reason, all he can think about are the times that Newt’s called him an old man, even though he knows it’s just Newt poking fun at his clothes.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal breathes before lowering himself again, taking hold of Hermann’s cock. He strokes him a few times, enough to draw a loud gasp from Hermann and several whimpers from Newt. Hermann looks over to see Newt thrashing around on his side of the bed, rocking from side to side, legs opening slightly and shutting, trying to get comfortable as Hannibal works Hermann. Hermann would laugh, but his breath catches when Hannibal takes his head into his mouth.

The sight of such a big, powerful man holding his cock and sucking it is almost a little too much for Hermann. He shuts his eyes tight, focusing all his effort into not coming right then and there. The feel of Hannibal’s tongue on the underside of his cock is hard to resist.

Hannibal pulls off with a pop and says quietly, with a voice even lower and more full of gravel than usual, “You want me to take you down all the way?”

Just the thought makes Hermann sweat. “As much – as much as that appeals to me,” Hermann says once Newt is done angrily, wordlessly shouting about it, “I think I might be done for if you do.”

“Fair enough.” Hannibal gives his cock one last lick before pulling away and working his own pants down. “You mind finding my lube? It’s in the nightstand.” Hermann reaches over and manages to pull the small bottle out without moving too far. He’s not sure how much he can move right now, this all feels so good. For a moment, as Hannibal takes the bottle and warms the lube between his hands, Hermann relaxes, shuts his eyes, and lets himself feel what Newt is feeling – the raging hard-on that’s achingly hard pressing against his jeans, hands and feet bound together just tight enough to keep him from moving much. He might just understand the appeal of it as he feels Newt’s near mindlessness from the pleasure of being fucked without even being touched.

Hannibal smiles as he looks over Hermann again. “I wonder how the kid’ll feel, being fucked with his pants on.”

Hermann smirks back. “I suppose we’ll find out.” 

This is torture. Pure, straight-up fucking torture. Literally fucking torture. Newt would be furious if he weren’t enjoying it so much.

It is one of the most bizarre experiences of his life to listen to Hermann and Hannibal calmly talking about fucking while he’s lying next to them, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Hannibal’s mouth on Hermann’s cock had made him buck so hard that he wonders if he’s strained a muscle in his hip. His cock certainly doesn’t appreciate it, rubbing painfully against his zipper as he fruitlessly tries to turn over and rub it against the mattress. He barely even notices the sounds coming out of his own mouth anymore, whimpering just the normal way for him to communicate now.

He finally starts listening again when Hannibal says, “The kid’s getting a little mouthy. I wanna hear you for once.” He reaches into the drawer and pulls out a ball gag. Newt’s eyes go wide. Why the fuck does Hannibal keep that so close at hand? “You’re okay with this, right?” Hannibal asks, leaning over Newt. Newt nods furiously, ready for anything at this point. If Hannibal wanting to shut him up gets him off faster, then he’ll fucking go for it. He winces as it snaps shut just a little too tightly behind his head. As a consolation, Hannibal unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. Newt moans in relief, voice muffled by the rubber ball currently stuck in his mouth.

As cool air brushes his cock, he finally tries to settle down and listen to Hermann and Hannibal. “So, now that I can actually _hear_ you, what’s a good position for you?” Hannibal asks.

“Hm?”

“How can I fuck you so I don’t hurt your leg?”

Newt turns his head to see Hermann turn even darker red than he already is. How is that possible? Jeez, Hannibal might be as good at getting to Hermann as Newt is. “Nothing that bends my leg too much,” he says, thinking aloud. “Perhaps – maybe on my stomach…?”

“Turn over, then,” Hannibal instructs him. They move pillows under him so that his ass is propped up without making him bend his legs too far. “Let me know if it starts hurting, right?”

“Yes,” Hermann says, looking like he wants to bury his face in the sheets from embarrassment. Newt is simultaneously glad and annoyed with himself for warning Hannibal about Hermann’s leg. (The warning may have included a threat that left Hannibal laughing and calling him an angry kitten.)

The embarrassment is quickly forgotten when Hannibal squirts some lube onto his fingers. Hermann flinches as Hannibal spreads him open; Newt can feel his tension deep in his own body. As good as it felt to get fucked when Newt was the one being physically stretched, actually being the one left to Hannibal’s mercy is completely different, and Hermann is not totally prepared. Newt wonders if Hermann’s ever actually been fucked before.

It feels so strange to have his legs tied tight together but feel himself held wide open. It feels even weirder when the lube dribbles into his hole, even though he knows he’s completely dry. He groans into the gag, barely a sound emerging from behind the rubber. To his surprise, he hears Hermann gasp, and then cry out as Hannibal slides his middle finger down inside of him.

Hermann clinches his fists, grabbing and twisting the sheets as hard as he can as Hannibal slowly pushes his finger in and out. Newt has a difficult time resisting the urge to tighten his own fingers, twitching as he feels Hannibal’s finger exploring in ghost sensations. The first time he touches Hermann’s prostate, he nearly screams, and is shocked to hear Hermann shout along with him. God, he didn’t realize Hermann could get so – so noisy. It almost makes him wish he were the one forcing these sounds out of Hermann’s mouth.

After a while, Hannibal adds a second dripping finger. Hermann squirms under him, constantly letting wordless noises escape from his throat, occasionally even yelping. Newt’s suddenly so happy that Hannibal gagged him, that he gets to hear this – he had no idea Hermann could ever get this loud outside of shouting at him. He twists around, grinding his ass into the mattress, wishing he could make Hermann push and buck back against Hannibal the way he does.

It’s interesting to feel the differences between the two of them being fucked. Newt constantly begs for more, pushing and pleading and rocking back into Hannibal, usually forcing him to grab Newt’s hips to keep him from hurting himself. Hermann, however, is content to lie still and let Hannibal go at his own pace, merely trembling at the feeling of everything Hannibal’s doing to him – and it feels compleely different, every stroke deeper, every push against his walls heavier. Shit, Hermann is even more sensitive to this than he is. Newt sees stars every time Hannibal brushes Hermann’s prostate, feeling his own cock throb at the teasing touches.

Newt looks up, curious as to what Hannibal’s feeling – he’s usually a little too out of it, or into it as the case may be, to see what’s going on when he’s the one being fucked. The man has an intense look of concentration on his face, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth as he watches Hermann writhe. Shit, he’s really enjoying it. Does he look like this when he’s doing Newt, when he has to practically pin Newt down to keep him steady? Or is this some special thing since he’s obviously Hermann’s first? He eagerly slips a third finger inside Hermann once the skinnier man is ready for it, absorbed in the task of pushing him to his limit.

Rubbing his own ass against the sheets, Newt wishes he had something, anything, on his cock. This is the definition of true torture – getting fucked without really being fucked. He knows at least that he’ll get off, but he wonders how long Hannibal’s going to prolong it, how long Hermann will hold out. Is this going to take all night?

Finally, finally Hannibal seems to be done teasing and stretching Hermann. Newt gives a muffled sigh of both relief and anguish as he pulls his fingers from Hermann's hole, quickly unzipping and kicking off his pants. He rubs his massive, dripping cock over Hermann's cheeks, saying, "You think you're ready for this?" as Hermann shivers under him.

Newt moans as he watches the huge man spread himself over Hermann, legs rubbing against Hermann's, one hand pinning Hermann's arm and the other holding Hermann's hips, doing his best to both hold him down and spread him open at the same time. He doesn't immediately enter Hermann, instead sliding his cock over Hermann's hole, letting his head slip just barely into him before stopping and brushing over him again. Newt thrashes on the bed, furious, wishing he could just grab his goddamn aching cock already. He's so hard it practically fucking hurts, and Hannibal is going so goddamn slow-

Hermann and Newt shout at the same time as Hannibal slips inside Hermann. Even all of that stretching didn't prepare Hermann for this, and nothing could have let Newt know how odd, how fucking good it would feel to be both full and empty at the same time, to be spread wide open as far as he could go and have his legs tied so shut he can't move. His body doesn't know how to react to it; he finds himself kicking and rocking, screaming near silenced by the gag in his mouth. He's almost thankful for the damn rubber ball now. If anyone could hear the inhuman noises forcing themselves out of his throat, they might think Hannibal was killing him, not kinda sorta fucking him. For a moment, Newt wonders if he is dying, if this is some strange fever-dream and soon he's going to -

That train of thought dies as Hannibal pushes himself fully inside, his hips colliding with Hermann's ass. It's just a little bit painful, enough to snap Newt out of his daze, to remind him that yes, this is happening, there is cold air caressing his body and phantom hands pinning him to the sweat-soaked sheets and ropes burning against his skin as he fruitlessly tugs against them. The feeling of Hannibal's heat against his back and the cool air circling through the room and over his chest is so alien, so like a sickness that he can at least begin to understand why his body is so confused, why he feels almost ill in his desperation to actually be touched. It's the most pleasurable and yet uncomfortable feeling he's ever experienced. How the fuck did Hermann stand this when it was him going through this? Newt remembers that he could touch himself, could end this agony whenever he felt like it, and suddenly realizes why he'd never lasted more than a few minutes like this before jerking and screaming himself to completion.

Hannibal starts to fuck Hermann in earnest now, and Newt can barely think, can barely breathe. His body twitches and jerks now just to find some way to react to the sensations, feeling Hannibal's cock against every ridge along Hermann's walls. His burning throat is only capable of squeaks and groans now, imperceptible behind the gag.

He falls near silent until Hannibal first finds the right angle and slams into Hermann's prostate. That leaves him arching his back up hard, giving a shout that leaves his throat aching and his cock throbbing. Instead of pulling back to keep fucking Hermann, Hannibal gives little thrusts now, bumping and rubbing against Hermann's prostate until the man is moaning and swearing in a low, strained voice under him. Newt might possibly be in tears.

He tries to blink away the wetness in his eyes when he notices Hannibal pushing himself up and looking at him. This is the weakest he's ever been in front of Hannibal, even more vulnerable than when he's  the one on his knees under the bigger man. To his surprise, Hannibal says, "Man, kid, you've been such a good - ungh - good boy tonight. For once." Newt nods furiously, hoping it means he'll stop drawing this out so much. It feels so good and so terrible at the same time - god, he needs relief, he needs to hit the peak, he's so - so -

He lets out one last moan when Hannibal reaches over and and slides his hand over the head of Newt's dick. It takes all his effort not to try and thrust when Hannibal's fist closes over him, pumping him in an unsteady rhythm. He'd never admit it, but he's actually crying now, tears streaming down his face and into his ears and hair as he leans into the touch he so desperately craves. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's aware of Hermann shouting in pleasure, but thoughts of Hermann are far away as he finally, finally climaxes, thrusting his hips so hard into Hannibal's hand that it strains his muscles.

For a long time, he simply lies there, panting, not caring about his hands digging into his back or the feeling of Hannibal's thighs against Hermann's, barely noticing him pausing and thrusting hard as he reaches his own orgasm. That's both the nice and the disappointing part of this, not feeling Hannibal's cum, hot and sticky, dripping out and sliding down his thighs. Or the feeling of Hannibal slumping against him afterwards. It's something he doesn't normally even have to think about, but shit, he misses the feeling of being held after cumming this hard.

After a while, Hannibal gets up when Hermann protests, Newt feeling the cramp in his hip and the desire to cool down as he nudges Hannibal off of him. It's a relief when Hannibal turns Newt over, unclasps the gag, and unties the ropes, rubbing his wrists and ankles, making sure he can still move. As soon as his arms are free, he wraps them tight around Hannibal's waist, not caring how sweaty and gross they both are. "You okay?" Hannibal asks, and Newt is surprised to hear concern in his voice.

"Fine," Newt croaks, hoarse from all his shouting. "Just. Just fucking holy shit fine." He buries his head in Hannibal's chest, overjoyed at the feel of his bare skin. He didn't realize just how much he liked the touching parts. So it's nice to feel Hannibal press him to the bed, just holding him. And it's especially nice to feel Hermann lean against the two of them, forehead nuzzling Newt's shoulder.

Newt could get used to this.


End file.
